Chapter Seven – No-Sleep Sleepover

Born of ancient gifts and Mystic blood. The words run over my thoughts like the repeating hum of an oscillating fan. I’m nothing more than the outcast of the school. There’s no one that would find me even remotely magical. And a Witch? Please, I’m can’t even microwave popcorn without burning it half the time.

My fingers graze over the stacks of plastic containers, each holding delicious cupcakes and sugar cookies drowned in sprinkles. I have about 20 more minutes to compose myself before heading home. That gives me enough time to finish my shopping and head to the makeup department to fix up my face. Not very hygienic but it’ll work for now. I pick a few cupcake boxes up and place them in my basket next to the $5 DVDs. There will be no horror movies tonight with what went on today. It’s a girl’s night anyway so Katie’s going to want to drool over action hero bodies or swoon for chick-flicks heartthrobs.

“Hey,” a feminine voice greets from behind. I turn around to find a chick I’ve never seen before, knowing I’d definitely remember if I did. I try to ignore her but she persists. “I just wanted to introduce myself,” she says. “The name’s Tammy.”

Tammy looks like she’s in her early twenties but it’s hard to tell with her makeup so neatly applied. I take note of her cute rockabilly style and compare it to how much of a mess I must look. Her build is curvy but petite under her polka dotted black dress and her stance is very sure of herself. Atop her head and wrapped into a bun is vibrant lilac hair. Very unique. I give a quick wave with my free hand.

“Hi,” I mutter timidly. “I’m Gail.”

Tammy’s face flashes like she knows something but it shows for less than a second. She covers herself by nodding and stepping around me in her scarlet ankle boots. I stand there not sure how to react.

“So you’re it? Not what I expected at all.”

I feel like I’m being insulted but I still have no idea what she means. That’s been happening a lot today. I step backward and walk in the opposite direction. This day keeps getting better and better. Tammy sighs but as I’m about to turn onto the bigger walkway, the strange girl calls after me. “Good luck with your Tempest.”

My head whips back to her. Tammy grins triumphantly and adjusts the skull studded purse on her right shoulder. My eyes scan the rest of the aisle. Seeing no one, I move closer.

“You’re part of that Coven, aren’t you?” She says nothing. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “Look, I don’t want anything to do with you. I just want to live a normal life so leave me alone.”

Our eyes lock. Tammy looks up and down my orange sundress with judging eyes. I think she’s trying to decide if I’m telling the truth. I stand on uneasy feet but keep my nerve. She takes it rather well. “I’ll be seeing you again,” she says plainly. Biting her lip, she juts her chin in my direction as a goodbye and strolls away. “I like the dreads.”

With that, the peculiar girl disappears down the aisle with her lilac bun bouncing behind her. I chalk it up to another one of the weird occurrences of today and stay rooted to the spot until the weight of the air feels lessened. This Witch business is already changing me and I don’t even want it. My weight shifts restlessly but I move on.

Continuing my shopping and moving to the back of the store, I find a long counter filled with ice and dead fish. Next to it is the deli for smoked meats and cheese. A large window stands between them where customers can see the workers cutting slices to sell. I catch my reflection staring back at me and reach my hand to the somber face. The curves under my eyes seem especially deep from crying earlier in the market’s bathroom. My lack of makeup makes me look sickly pale. I place my hand on my shoulder where the Emerald did earlier. My touch feels foreign now.

One of the deli workers from beyond the window catches my eye as I scrutinize myself. He tries to ignore me but I’d feel uncomfortable too if a random girl was staring in my direction. Noticing how weird I’m being, my legs hurry on. It’s amazing how much my life is a series of embarrassing encounters and awkward conversations. It’s been this way ever since I can remember.

The last of my mental checklist for the sleepover is a big bag of chips. My flip flops slap the floor as I move to the snack aisle. I have the choice to buy Katie’s favorite, the disgusting salt & vinegar, or the original flavor. I decide on both and lay them in the basket. My grocery shopping is done but before I can head to the beauty counter, someone I actually know finds me. This time, it’s very welcomed.

“All hail, Miss Abigail,” the boy shouts at me from down the walkway. My eyes roll before seeing his beaming face. As my best friend draws closer, it gets harder to keep the smile from forming on my lips.

“What’s up Xan-Xan the man-man?” Xander ignores my halfhearted enthusiasm and pushes his cart next to mine.

“Mother dearest is getting food and I’m here for my brute strength.” He flexes the muscles he earns from his frequent trips to the gym and I raise my eyebrows, embarrassed for him. I spot his mom down at the other end of the aisle, comparing different cereal boxes. I wave but she doesn’t notice. Ms. Stenman isn’t the biggest fan of what I’ve heard her call the ‘pin cushion face’ anyway. Signaling to her son, she takes herself down another aisle and leaves Xander to talk with me.

“She’s a little cranky today,” he explains.

“Ain’t she always?” The boy in front of me clutches his hand to his chest as if he’s offended.

“That’s my mama you is talking ‘bout,” he says in a dramatic southern accent. I giggle at him and let the day fade into the back of my mind. Xander always has a way of making me feel less troubled; it’s why we work so well together.

Talking what we’ve been up to, I start with the story meant for my other best friend. Lie after lie, I explain how Trevor took me out on a picnic in the park and how awkward it was. Xander doesn’t buy it for a second. He knows I’m keeping something but that I’m not willing to share yet. Shrugging his shoulder, he lets me change the subject.

Tammy finds me again once or twice, staring from down the aisles. I attempt to keep Xander from noticing but he probably saw her. We leave soon anyway. My attempt to fix up my face will have to wait until I get home. We pay for our things and the three of us head out of the store. Trevor said nothing about the change from the $40. His loss.

“Want to hang for a bit at my house? It’s only a few blocks away,” I ask him. He turns back to his mom who is bee-lining it to their red Ford Explorer. “Come on. Katie would be a lot less angry if you came along.”

Xander shrugs. His mom doesn’t seem in enough of a good mood to be left with the groceries all to herself so Xan whispers about meeting up later. We agree on my house at eleven and he winks in my direction. My goodbye goes unnoticed by Ms. Stenman. She doesn’t like me which is fine by my standards. I don’t like her much either. The mother and son pull out of the parking lot and I’m left to walk home on my own.

Time to face the awaiting storm that is Katie. I work on Trevor’s imaginary kidnap date and walk home. Each possible story sounds worse than the next but it will have to do. I hunch my shoulders and fix my dress’s strap from falling down. With all the insane stories I’ve heard today, this is the only one which I’d actually believe. And it’s all a lie.

“Let me rip his shirt off with my teeth,” Katie groans at the TV. “Seriously, why can’t he be mine?”

We’re sitting in the living room as a British man covered with sweat walks on screen. The girl he’s flirting with blushes but doesn’t turn away. In the next moment, the story’s hero pulls his shirt over his head and the girl gets even redder. Katie squeals in delight. I laugh too but more at her joy than the movie.

“You can have him,” I tell her. “But leave his best friend to me. You know I love the nerds.”

“Deal!”

We eat our chips on the leather couch in the living room but I’m interrupted. Tonight is still the all-about-her sleepover which leaves me at her command. Katie holds her fingernails out for me to paint. She needs a color to match her new skin tone that became a shade darker today. I get started, happy for alone time with my best friend. Michelle is at her friend’s house and Scott is upstairs already asleep from his long day at work. He had to pick up extra hours since I took a few of them away. It’s just me and Katie tonight.

“Cute bracelet,” she tells me, taking her eyes away from the movie. “Where’d you get it?”

“Uh… I-I don’t remember.” Katie eyes up the charm the Emerald gave me. I set the nail polish down and unclip the thing from around my wrist. “But you know what? I don’t even like it. You have it. I don’t want it anymore.”

“But it’s yours,” Katie says. “I can’t just take it.”

“You know you want it. Besides, it’s either you or the trash.”

“I see how much I mean to you,” she replies sarcastically. She bites her bottom lip but eventually takes it from my hand. “Gracias, Ruiseñor!

I fasten the bracelet to her wrist and she holds the little amber butterfly in her fingers. The air gradually feels heavier but I’m not about to take it back. I’ll deal with it. I might even shop for my own amber necklace later on the internet. My eyes turn to the movie at last as my body relaxes on the couch. Katie shakes her head and makes as tsk-tsk noise.

“Not uh,” she scolds me. “My other hand is still in need of polish.”

We gossip and watch two more movies about hot guys and fair maidens. Before it’s even ten, Katie is asleep. Her legs are sprawled over the entire couch leaving me to the floor. I don’t know how she can be tired since she didn’t do anything but tan all day. I plump the extra comforter beneath me and finish watching a classic cartoon musical. Old princess movies make everything better.

As the credits roll, I check my phone to see if Xan texted about coming over. There’s nothing but a blank screen and a flashing battery. I stand up grudgingly. My charger is all the way upstairs next to my bed.

My feet creak up the steps and to my room. The messy floor practically makes me trip as I fight my way over to the outlet by my nightstand. It’s always like this when Katie comes over. Somehow, every single time, it’s like a tornado ran through. I squat and find the charger, moving the clothes thrown this way from the earlier ‘fashion show’.

Whump.

My entire body jumps at the thud on my window and my heart beats a mile a minute. I walk over there, scolding myself for flinching at what was probably a bunch of leaves hitting the glass. The tree outside my window is growing so much that we, meaning Scott, will have to trim the branches soon. I move my sheers and gaze at the moon drenched street. I wish the houses were a little more spread out so my view would be trees and gardens rather than the neighbor’s wall. I let the translucent material fall from my fingers over the window and turn around.

“Please, don’t be scared.”

I clamp my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming like crazy. It’s a surprise I didn’t pee my pants. I cough for air from the saliva that went down the wrong pipe and take my time to see who actually said it. My pulse beats faster at the person I find. Here, in my bedroom is a ghost.  A ghost who wasn’t there a second ago! My legs lose their footing and I fall to the floor over my clothes. Luckily, it’s quiet enough that Scott shouldn’t have heard me at all. So much for not being scared.

“You’re dead, I’m not,” I whine to her, crawling backward on the floor. “I don’t even want to see you. This Witch thing is not my choice. Please don’t kill me or take my soul.”

“Gail, I am not here to hurt you,” she says in her echoing voice. “Though, I take offense to that.”

My mouth hangs open, thinking of anything to say. “I… I didn’t mean to.”

I barely open my eyes at the woman. Of course I knew it was a ghost at first sight —the transparency and blue, smoky body gave it away— but I didn’t look to her face until now. Bangs dangle wildly above her eyes and a cardigan is sported over her white t-shirt and high water jeans. She couldn’t be older than her late twenties. Or at least her soul isn’t. Or she died then? It’s too confusing.

“Your Tempest is here,” she states. My legs scream against me as I try to stand and once I’m up, I feel like running out of my room and away from here. But I stay still, calmly nodding my head as her smile widens. “You can finally see and hear me. It’s nice to be able to have a real conversation again.”

Her form moves airily to sit on my bed. From the way her back sits straight up and the polite yet vacant stare, I can safely say she wasn’t much of a conversationalist in her living days either.

“I was adopted too,” the ghost woman admits. “When my parents died, my best friend and her family took me in. They cared for me as their own and when the time came Fiona, my ‘sister’, began her Tempest too.”

“She… Uh… You know of—”

“I’m pretty familiar with Witches,” the ghost whispers. A soft giggle plays behind her closed lips. Her eyes dart around my room in awe at my things, making me feel as though she’s unbalanced but not dangerously so. Everyone would get a little eccentric from not having contact with people. The tension in my muscles gradually leaves. She’s harmless; as airy in personality as she is in appearance but definitely harmless.

“What do you want,” I ask. “From me, I mean. Can I help in some way? To move you on or whatever?”

The young woman ignores my question. Instead, she rises from the bed to breeze past me to the window. The wisps of her hair stretch out behind her like she’s underwater. Icy air shrouds the room, chilling me from inside out. A noise from across the hall catches my attention, probably Scott having a nighttime bathroom run. My interest is returned to the spirit whose name I have still yet to know. My shoulders hunch to warm my neck and I take my hair bandana off.

“Follow me,” ghost woman says. I massage my dreads and ask where but in a sudden flash, she dissolves into the air. I look all around my room. I might be a Witch and all but don’t I need a wand to disapparate like Harry Potter? I search again and even check the hallway. She’s nowhere to be found. Did I imagine everything? Finally, I catch sight of her through my window and beside the tree Scott needs to trim.

I debate on whether to go after her or not. It might be the insane curiosity pulling me or the fact I’m not very good at turning my cheek to something so strange. Throwing my fuzzy boots on under my sundress, donning my sweat jacket and stuffing my phone and house keys in their sides, I hurry down the steps and quietly out of the front door. Hopefully leaving Katie this time won’t have me gone for another three hours.

“This way,” she says before disappearing in the air. The misty blue trail of her form follows her as she moves from spot to spot. It’s like a game to her but not a spiteful one. “Come on. It’s not far.”

“Where are we going?” The stop-and-go following really annoys my feet. The ghost says nothing but as soon as we’re up the block, I immediately figure it out.

We’re heading to the cemetery.

Through the spear-like bars of the fence, dozens of blue souls float around. How have I never seen them before? They’re so bright that they light up the entire graveyard without the use of the streetlights. That’s of good use to me; I didn’t bring a flashlight.

“Do not acknowledge the ghosts. If they figure out who you are, they’ll bombard you with requests like this morning. Trust me, it’s pretty thrilling to finally talk to someone as a ghost,” she tells me. “Most of the time we watch things unfold. They wouldn’t know how to control themselves if they found out you’re a Witches.”

“I’m right there with them,” I mumble under my breath.

I turn back to my street where one of the neighborhood cats skips across Mr. Maley’s lawn. A car is parking on the other end of the block so I have to make this quick. The last time I went to the cemetery at night, I was dared by Katie and almost caught. But the ghost lady has me climb over the small part of the fence since the entry gates are closed for the night. I wonder what this would look like to other people. I’m just the town freak sneaking into a graveyard at night. No big deal.

My feet step lightly of the hallowed ground, careful not to step on any of the plots. I hunch over and pull up my hood. It’s freezing here. Ghosts or spirits or whatever they are called, hang around. Everyone… or everything… is of different backgrounds; from children to the elderly, men and women, rich and poor. My ghost lady leads me to the center of the graveyard. Reading some of the headstones here, I notice they are all deaths from the late fifties. She stops me by a rather unimportant headstone and points to the dates.

Mary Anita Shau

Daughter and Loving Friend

Born: October 12th 1932 – Died: April 14th 1956

“I’m buried under there.”

I look back to the woman whom I now know as Mary. She smiles, not something I would have expected. Aren’t ghosts supposed to be forever miserable that they’re trapped in this world? Maybe Mary has had some time to adjust. I take a seat on the ground and try to avoid any ghostly interest. The cold from the night and the graveyard is starting to really gnaw on my bones.

“Why did you bring me here,” I whisper to her.

“Fiona was, and is to this day, my dearest friend,” she explains. “If you are worried for your life to change, do not fear. True friendships will keep by your side no matter what you become.”

“I’m not afraid of my friends finding out.”

“Then what is your worry,” she asks. I stay silent. After a pause, Mary floats to stand atop her headstone and gazes down at me. “Whatever your struggles are at accepting your heritage, do not let it misguide you. These powers are a gift.”

Her eyes glance to the half lit moon in the sky as the night breeze rustles through her form. The sound of dried grass crunches a few steps away breaks my focus. Crunch, crunch. Their steps move closer, getting faster. My eyes turn back to a horde of ghosts. They cling to a body moving towards me, blocking my view. I move to Mary’s headstone for protection. These ghosts can’t harm me but someone living sure can.

“Gail?”

The blue spirits move their forms out of the way and finally I see the person’s face. My lungs gasp as I recognize Xander. He hurries over to me trying to help me up but I stand on my own and brush the dirt from my dress and fix my hair.

“What are you doing here? Especially now,” he comments while looking around. His eyes rest on the gravestone I was staring at before turning back to me. He must have followed me as I left the house. I bet it was his car being parked. I shake my head, not sure how to lie again for the sake of my sanity.

“I, uh, I don’t know,” I say honestly. M shoulders drop and the bite of tears prickle my eyes. “I just want to go home.”

Mary watches behind me as Xan tries to calm me down. I glance to at her but she holds a finger to her lips. My eyes slide back to Xander who pulls me in for a tight embrace.

“You’re alright, Gail. Let’s get you…” His words die off and his body goes rigid. I try and remove myself from his arms but his grip almost tightens.

“Xander?”

“What the—?” All at once I feel his stare search the graveyard. With each movement he rests on a different ghost; the short lady across a few rows, the child playing on the angel statue, Mary, the old man sitting on his headstone. His eyes see all of them. I push him from the hug and his face shakes from the change. “Did you just see that,” he frantically asks. His fingers rub his eyes but he looks for the ghosts he can no longer see. “Tell me you saw that.”

My jaw hangs loose and I turn back to Mary. Her eyebrows are creased in confusion too until something clicks in her mind. I read it all over her expression.

“Look after this one, Miss Hendrix,” she whispers. Xander continues to search the air around him desperate for some sort of answer. Mary continues. “The transfer of powers can only happen to those of pure hearts and great destinies. It happened to me when I was his age. You would do well to remember some friends may never leave like I have never left her.”

“Her who?”

Her figure starts to disappear but slower this time. Her lips mouth two words to me as the rest of her fades away. It makes sense now. The reason for she came to me was someone else’s doing, someone else’s plea.

Mary and Fiona. It sounds like a children’s story of adventure for the best friends. It makes sense now. I should have figured her first name wasn’t always ‘The’ and she wasn’t born with the last name being a green precious gem. The Coven leader must be much older than she looks to be sister to Mary. But now, all I wonder is how Xander’s destiny ties in with mine.

I spot a flick of hair at the fence of the cemetery in the corner of my eye. Two people run down the street but I’m able to see their silent bodies before their out of sight. One is a rather tall guy with a tribal tattoo circling his left arm while the girl beside him is short in comparison. Her lilac hair bounces as the pair runs out of sight.

As if this day couldn’t get any weirder.

Not wanting him to get another jolt of ghost vision, I jog down the path before seeing if Xander will follow me. I’m done with tonight. It’s time to relax with my friends. We climb the fence out of the graveyard together and steal back into my house to warm up with some nice hot chocolate.

I am a witch, I think to myself while making another bowl of semi-burnt popcorn. Setting up another movie and waking the groggy Katie, the three of us sit with our thoughts to ourselves. Katie cuddles with Xan and I’ve got a blanket for myself.

Being a witch doesn’t seem like I’m going to be able to avoid it. Maybe if I learn control, I won’t be stalked by every town freak Garfield Hill that knows of me yet I know nothing of them. I make a note to call Trevor tomorrow and tell him to take me back to that strange house. The more I know, the less likely I’ll be in danger. And who know, things might actually turn out okay. What have I got to lose?